


Wrestle With Your Demons So You Can Be Left Alone

by starrywrite



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: M/M, Panic Attacks, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Assault, implied PTSD, trigger warnings apply
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:27:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1354021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrywrite/pseuds/starrywrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan learns the hard way that not everyone understands no means <i>no</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrestle With Your Demons So You Can Be Left Alone

**Author's Note:**

> i was wary about posting it due to what’s been going on in the youtube fandom lately, mostly bc i was worried about whether or not i should even continue it bc i didn’t want it to come across as inappropriate or anything, so posting this at all was kind of a risk. but as a writer i feel like it’s my job to push the boundaries and take risks. 
> 
> that being said, this fic deals with situations that could be consider triggering. the main trigger warning of this fic being rape. if you have been sexually assaulted or know someone who has been, please speak up about it. RAINN is the largest anti-sexual violence organization in America, and they offer 24/7 support and help to any and all victims. feel free to visit their website: http://www.rainn.org/ or contact 800-656-HOPE(4673) if you have been assaulted or know someone who has been. if you don’t live in the US and you have been assualted or know someone who has been, please feel free to visit here: https://www.rainn.org/get-help/sexual-assault-and-rape-international-resources for contact info for your country.
> 
> please read this fic with caution and if reading this will trigger you, i’d reccommend you just skip over it. 
> 
> also i wanna dedicate this to alex bc shes my co-queen in angst and she helped me plan this and she was like my lil cheerleader while i wrote it which made me feel 10x better about posting it and i just really love her alot
> 
> okay that’s it, i know this was really lengthy but it was important and eah that’s it as always please enjoy the fic :)
> 
> disclaimer: phan is not real and i am in no way claiming this couple is real. i just ship them kinda hard. and do remember that all of the events taking place are entirely fictional.

“Did I leave my nice white shirt at your place? I can’t find it anywhere,” Dan balances his cell phone between his cheek and his shoulder while he leafs through his way-too-small dorm wardrobe, which arguably can be also be considered a kitchen cabinet or something of the sort because seriously, with all the money he (his parents) choke up for tuition Manchester University could’ve _at least_ give him a bigger wardrobe. Plus, why is he being punished for having clothes? It’s not like he can run around naked (though he could, but he’d probably get in trouble and some unwanted attention as well). 

“The button up one?” Phil asks. “No, I don’t think so.” Dan makes an agitated noise and continues to rifle through his wardrobe - maybe he should consider cleaning it out a little, then he’d find his things easier, and faster. “Why are you getting all dressed up for me, anyway?” his boyfriend asks him, catching his attention once again which makes Dan realize he hadn’t told Phil he wasn’t coming over tonight. Crap. “I mean, we’re just going to watch WALL-E again, or something.”

“I feel like we should expand on our movie night a little,” Dan says, then sucks in a deep breath because beating around the bush will do him no good when he’s expected to leave in a few minutes. “Listen, I - I’m not coming over tonight. I can’t, that is.”

“Something wrong?” 

“No,” Dan bites his lip because he suddenly feels like a douche for bailing on his boyfriend. “I forgot to tell you but I’ve kind of got plans tonight. With, like, friends, I guess you could call ‘em.”

“Oh!” Phil doesn’t sound angry - which is a relief - but he does sound a little surprised; whether it be at the fact that he’s actually going out or the fact that he’s actually got friends, Dan isn’t sure, and he isn’t sure if he should be offended or not. Then again, he was surprised when he was invited out in the first place, so he sees where Phil’s coming from. “Well, that’s alright, then.” Phil tells him, and Dan exhales slowly, a smile creeping its way across his face. He should’ve known Phil would’ve understood. 

“I can come over tomorrow,” Dan tells him. “As soon as I wake up.”

“So I get to be the lucky one who takes care of you while you’re hungover and puking,” Phil laughs. “Lucky me.”

“Shut up,” Dan laughs. “What makes you think I’ll even be hungover in the first place?”

“Um, I know you.” is all Phil says and Dan laughs again, calling him a “twat” or something similar, and Phil asks him, “Where’re you headed anyway?” 

“Not sure,” Dan replies, which is quickly interrupted by an “Ah-ha!” because he’s finally found his shirt, and then he tells Phil, “It’s some new place I’ve never heard of. I think it just opened.”

“A new place?” Phil repeats. 

“Yeah.”

“And you’re going to this place you’ve never been to alone?” Phil asks. 

“Well, not really,” Dan puts his phone on speaker and lies it down on his bed, raising his voice a little while he shrugs his shirt on and buttons it up. “I’m going with people from my classes. It’s a group thing to binge drink and dance to bad music in celebration not committing homicide during exams.” 

“And you know everyone you’re going with?” Phil questions, and Dan picks up his phone once more. “Like, you’re on a name-to-name basis with these people? Do you have anyone’s number just in case? What if-”

Dan sighs into the phone and Phil shuts up for a second. “You’re doing it again.” he tells him.

“Doing what again?” Phil asks.

“You know, that thing where you act like my dad and not my boyfriend.”

“I resent that,” Phil insists, and Dan wishes he could see him rolling his eyes. “I just worry about you.”

“You don’t have to.” Dan tells him, and they’ve had this question dozens of times before. Phil’s four years older than him, and he always thinks that he has to protect Dan from everything. And he worries way too much about him; just because Dan’s only nineteen doesn’t mean he can’t take care of himself. “I’m a big boy, remember.” he says. “I’m a big boy who can take care of himself, and you’re going to give yourself gray hair if you don’t stop worrying about me. And I don’t think you could pull off gray.” he adds jokingly.

Phil forces a laugh, unconvinced that Dan doesn’t need him to look after him, but doesn’t push the subject and instead just says, “Okay, fine. Have fun tonight.”

“I kind of wish you were coming.” Dan admits, sitting down on the edge of his bed, reaching under for this shoes.

“I thought you were a big boy,” Phil mocks and Dan rolls his eyes, but laughs. 

“Fine, I take it back.” he says, but he really does wish Phil could come out with him. Truth be told, these people he’s going out with aren’t exactly his friends; more like classmates he jokes around with occasionally and gets homework answers from. He’s pretty certain most of them don’t know his name either. But regardless, he’s not exactly invited out that often and it _is_ uni after all; he’s supposed to have a little fun every once and a while. And he’s not about to turn out an opportunity drink and forget about the fact that he probably failed most of his exams. “You’re really boring when you’re drunk anyway.” he adds for good mocking measure. 

“I am not!” Phil protests.

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re really old now,” Dan continues, and Phil protests again, causing him to laugh. 

“Speaking of drunks,” Phil starts. “Behave tonight.”

Dan laughs again. “Excuse me?”

“You know how you get when you’ve had too much to drink,” Phil replies. “You turn into a sexual predator.”

“I resent that,” Dan says, but it’s kind of true. He does have a habit of getting… handsy when he’s had too much to drink. Of course, it’s only with Phil. “You can trust me, you know.” he adds, because he doesn’t want Phil to think that he would go and hook up with someone just because he was a bit drunk. 

“I know, love, I’m just teasing.” Phil tells him and Dan smiles. “Let me know when you get in, you know, so I know you’re alright.”

“Okay dad,” Dan rolls his eyes again. “You still up for nursing my hangover tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Phil chuckles. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Dan says, then hangs up his phone, sliding it in his pants pocket and putting on his shoes just as one of his friends - an actual friend, who actually knows his name - knocks on his door before pushing it open. “You ready dude?”

Dan smiles. “Yep.”

* * *

It doesn’t take Dan long to recall why he doesn’t usually go to clubs. He can literally feel the floor shaking with the vibrations of the bass from wherever the speakers are; that’s how loud the music is. Throw in a multi-colored flashing lights for no reason whatsoever and too many sweaty people all pressed against each other trying to dance to the same baseline that’s on repeat for about three hours, and Dan’s already uncomfortable. 

It also doesn’t take him long to realize he has no idea where anyone he knows is anymore. 

How he managed to get separated from all of his friends in a matter of minutes, even he doesn’t know, but it happened and of fucking course, it happened to him. And now he’s standing awkwardly in a corner while everyone has the time of their lives, and it’s like something out of a really bad romantic comedy. Except his true love isn’t going to ask him to dance; no, he’s at home watching WALL-E for the 30th time. 

Dan looks around and he’s suddenly feeling this strange mix of hypersensitivity and self-awareness, because he realizes that everyone here looks so much older. It was strange, though, because he was certain most of the people in this crowd were his age, maybe a year or two older, but everyone around him, with their sloshing glasses of alcohol, bodies mashed together, and wide smiles on their faces all looked decades older than himself and he felt so out of place. And now, on the outside looking in, he realizes he probably feels this way because he literally looks like he belongs in year 10 as opposed to being a uni student. Maybe it’s the fringe - his hair is getting pretty long, maybe he should consider getting a haircut and then he wouldn’t look so freaking _young_. Or maybe it’s the permanent baby face he has to work with, which isn’t doing him much good at the moment. Or maybe it’s the dimples - but Phil really likes those, so they have to stay. Or maybe this was all internalized and he was just being dumb and needed to stop being so tense.. 

He walks over to the bar and orders a drink, taking a nice long sip when it arrives in hopes of calming his frazzled nerves. He wants to have fun tonight. He’s _going_ to have fun tonight.

* * * 

Dan doesn’t have fun. 

Clubs just aren’t his scene; they’re not like parties, where he knows everyone and knows where everyone is. Parties are intimate and small and he doesn’t feel so insignificant and he doesn’t feel so alone and awkward. He doesn’t like clubs, and he doesn’t like awkwardly drinking alone because he doesn’t know where anyone he actually knows is and he’s too shy to try and talk to new people. He doesn’t like being alone - and he still hasn’t managed to figure out where all his friends snuck off too, but at this point he doesn’t care because he doesn’t want to be here anymore. He’d rather have a lazy night in with Phil than a night by himself in some club. 

He sighs heavily and downs whatever’s left of his drink - he’s had a few, but he’s definitely not drunk and sadly, he’s not drunk enough to start drunk-dialling Phil and sing 80s love songs to him… again - before turning to head towards the bathrooms. He needs a minute to himself, a moment of silence and solitude so he can just think. 

It doesn’t take him long to find that bathroom, and when he does, he finds that it’s completely empty. Which is strange, but nothing he dwells on for long because he empties his bladder then heads over the sink to wash his hands and splash his face with water a few times. Maybe he should stay a little while longer. Maybe he should look for some of his friends and actually make an effort to hang out with them. Maybe -

The bathroom door opens, but Dan pays it no mind until he hears a soft ‘click’ and a shiver runs down his spine. He glances up briefly to look at the mirror and try to grasp the situation, when he sees an older man, probably late twenties, maybe even early thirties, standing by the bathroom door. Standing in front of the bathroom door. Blocking Dan’s only entrance. 

Anxiety spikes, and his stomach drops. ‘Just breathe,’ he tells himself. ‘Stay calm,’ he shuts the tap off and dries his trembling hands, pretending as if he doesn’t notice the man standing there, and then heads towards the bathroom door, ready to make a break for it.

The man places a hand on Dan’s wrist, and his entire body goes tense. “What’s your hurry?” he asks him and Dan wants to vomit.

“I - I -” Dan stops himself. He doesn’t want to talk to this man, he doesn’t want anything to do with him. He just wants to get the fuck out of here. He tries to push past him but the man grabs his other arm. He’s got a hold on both of Dan’s arms now and he pins them against his sides. He can’t move. He’s going to be sick. He’s never been more terrified than right now.

“I’ve been watching you tonight,” the man murmurs in his ear, and Dan thrashes about, desperate to break his grip on him and get out. “Calm down there, tiger, it’s alright,” he tells him and Dan just struggles more. His hands are rough and calloused and he’s pretty sure there are going to be bruises left from how tight of a grip he’s got on him. Nothing like Phil; Phil’s gentle and soft and warm, and Dan can feel the tears forming in the corner of his eyes because he really wants Phil right now. 

“Let me go,” he whimpers but he goes unheard because the man starts murmuring in his ear how “pretty” he is and how much “fun” they’re going to have, and his hot breath is tickling his skin and it’s making him squirm. “Stop it, please,” he whines but is once again ignored, and he presses his lips against the side of Dan’s face and he nearly gags. It feels wrong, it feels disgusting. “Stop!” he kisses along Dan’s face and chin, and he balls his hands into fists but he can’t move them so it’s pretty much useless. He jerks his body in any direction he can, doing whatever he could to escape this man’s death grip on him, and he all but shouts, “Let me go!” and Dan thinks the man’s all but had enough of him because he wraps one hand firmly over Dan’s mouth and twists the other around his back, pushing him towards an open bathroom stall. Dan stumbles and trips over his own two feet, and before he realizes it, he’s being pressed up against the wall of a bathroom stall and he can’t move. 

Dan isn’t claustrophobic but he can’t breathe right now. It feels like the walls are closing in on him and the space is getting smaller and smaller. It feels like the man, whoever he is, is getting closer and closer to him. His chest is tight. He can’t breathe. He’s going to be sick. “Let me go!” his words go unheard with the man’s palm pressed firmly against his mouth and tears slide down his cheeks. He’s never been so scared before. He closes his eyes; maybe this is all a dream. Just a horrible nightmare that he’s going to wake up from any second, and then everything will be okay. 

He removes his hand from around Dan’s mouth and grasps his hair, holding his head in place against the wall and his other hand releases Dan’s arm that was locked around his back, but before Dan can even react, he realizes his jeans are being tugged down. 

Dan’s eyes widen in horror and he tries to jerk himself free, but he’s not strong enough. He’s stuck. “No, no, no, _please!_ ” the man just shushes him in reply, telling him that he knows he wants it. Dan feels two pairs of hands pressing firmly on his waist. He feels his jeans bunch around his knees. 

“ _Don’t!_ \- please don’t! -” Dan can’t scream anymore; he’s crying too hard. He’s so scared, and he can feel the man’s hand on his waist, trailing slowly towards the middle of his back. Dan shivers; he’s not cold, but he’s shaking uncontrollably and he’s sweating at the same time. The man is wrong - he doesn’t want this. He wants him to stop. Why won’t he stop?

His underwear is pulled down his hips slowly, and Dan chokes on a sob. He feels so exposed. He feels the man’s hand touching his ass, and he doesn’t stop touching him, and he’s murmuring disgusting things in his ear, and Dan keeps begging him to _stop, please, please, please stop_ but he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t stop.

It burns. It doesn’t hurt, it fucking _burns_ and Dan feels like he’s being ripped in two. Tears fall down his cheeks and he’s hoping, pleading, with whatever higher beings in this world that this is all just some sick nightmare and that this isn’t happening. 

He doesn’t stop.

Dan tries not to think about it, tries to block it out, tries to focus his mind or something, _anything_ else, but he can’t. All he can do is think about how badly it hurts. How his whole body feels like it’s on fire. How his stomach is lurching and he’s sure he’s going to be sick any moment. How his chest is so tight that he can’t even breathe right now. How he can’t stop crying. How he can’t stop himself from pleading with him to stop because _it hurts_ and he _doesn’t want this_ and _please, don’t, please, stop_ even though he knows the man won’t listen to him. How the man’s hands are leaving bruises along Dan’s hips because they’re pressing too hard, making sure that Dan can’t run away. All he can do is think about how badly he wants him to stop.

He doesn’t stop.

He has no track of time right now. He doesn’t know how long he’s been hurting him like this. He doesn’t even know how long he’s been in the bathroom altogether. But after a while, Dan hears him grunt loudly, and then moments later, he pulls out. Dan’s legs are shaking, he can barely hold himself up. The man turns him around, and he’s still trembling violently, his cheeks stained with tears. He doesn’t put up a fight when the man presses his lips against Dan’s and tells him, “You were good, kid.” And then he leaves him alone in the bathroom stall.

He finally stops.

* * *

The flashing lights of the club are making him dizzy and the loud music is just dull, throbbing background noise as Dan makes his way through the club. He stumbles, his legs still shaky, but he’s moving as fast as he can because he can’t fathom the idea of the man finding him again, grabbing him again, touching him again…

He can’t breathe. His chest is tight and there’s too many people around him, and _fuck_ he needs to get out of here. He shoves past people, not caring that he’s being rude because that’s the last thing on his mind at the moment; he just needs to get out of here. 

He feels as if he’s in a daze; like he can’t keep track of the time or of what’s happening. His mind is foggy, and he’s trying to focus: _find the exit, get out of here, find the exit and get out of here_. Everything hurts too, his body is aching and he’s trying to ignore it so he can keep moving. He can’t stop moving. _Find the exit, get out of here, find the exit and get out of here_. Despite the rainbow of colors flashing around him, they’re not exactly guiding his way to the exit. He can’t see, he can’t breathe, he can’t think. And he’s terrified, he’s fucking terrified - he can’t - he can’t -

He finally finds his way outside, and he wants to sob with relief. A rush of cold washes over him, but he pays no mind to it, and he starts walking again. He stumbles and trips over his own two feet. People stare at him, but no one pays him any mind; they all probably just assume that he’s drunk off of his ass and trying to get home. Home. That’s where he needs to go. Or maybe he should go to the police first. Or maybe he should keep walking until he can’t walk anymore and finds himself collapsed on the ground. Maybe he’d hit his head if he did that and then he’d be able to forget this entire night even happened. If there were anything humorous about this situation, Dan would’ve chuckled because now he finds himself wondering if he was hit on the head at this point, because he can’t seem to grasp where he’s going. He just knows he needs to get the hell away from here. 

He shivers again; when did it get so cold? He notices his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he reaches to tug them down when his body goes rigid. He sees the bruises littered around his wrists, the hand-shaped prints pressed against his skin, and Dan starts shaking again. He can’t stop thinking of the click of the lock on the bathroom door, the man grabbing his wrists, keeping him from leaving. He can’t stop thinking of the man’s hands pressed firmly on his waist, pressing him against the bathroom stall wall leaving him unable to move. His breath catches in his throat when he thinks about how he begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop. Dan’s heart starts pounding. His knees buckle. His stomach lurches. 

He stumbles off to a corner, his arm braced against the brick wall of some building, and he vomits. He chokes and gags and gasps, struggling to keep himself standing up while he empties the contents of his stomach onto the pavement below him. His free arm is wrapped tightly around his middle, and tears sting at his eyes again. He’s a fucking mess, that much he knows. 

It’s only moments later that he’s dry heaving and coughing, his chest tight and aching, and he simply drops down onto the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and closing his eyes. He breathes heavily for a moment, and he tries to calm himself down enough to think of a solution. But he can’t stop crying and he can’t stop shaking and he’s so fucking scared and he doesn’t know what to do.

What’s worse is that he doesn’t even know this guy’s name. 

He knows nothing about him - his age, where he’s from, why he even chose Dan to violate in the first place. Dan wants to go to the police, he _knows_ he should go to the police, but what’s the point? He doesn’t know who did this to him or anything about him; it would be pointless. There would be no helping him. Or maybe he should go to the hospital; what if he’s sick? What if he’s got an infection now? His stomach lurches again at the thought and another rough sob escapes his lips. Why did this have to happen to him? 

He feels his cell phone vibrate in his pocket, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. But he reaches for it with trembling hands and sees a text message from Phil, telling him “goodnight <3”. 

Phil. He needs to go to Phil. Phil would know exactly what to do.

He figures he should ring Phil and tell him what happened and tell him that he needs him, but he doesn’t; he just starts walking again. He thinks walking will make him feel better, help him collect his thoughts. 

Except thinking is the last thing he needs to be doing right now, because his mind is moving at a million miles per hour and none of his thoughts are coherent. He starts dwelling on what happened earlier and he feels sick and shaky again. He tries to decipher if he’s doing the right thing by not going to the police or the hospital immediately and he feels nervous and anxious. He wonders how he’s going to tell Phil that this happened. 

He groans to himself, this is not a conversation he’s going to want to have. His heart is hammering at the thought of having to sit Phil down and tell him that some random guy grabbed him tonight and cornered him and… and… Dan can’t even think the word without feeling like throwing up again. He wonders if this is karma kicking his ass in a really fucked up way for making all of those jokes about getting packages in the post laced with rohypnols - he can only count his blessings that he wasn’t roofied tonight. Except part of him wishes he had been because maybe then he would be able to forget. God, he just wants to forget that this happened.

Maybe he shouldn’t tell Phil then. Maybe he should just pretend that this whole ordeal was just a tragic nightmare and he can pretend that it didn’t happen, and not talking about it will definitely aid in him being able to pretend it didn’t happen. But there’s an ache in his lower back and bruises on his wrists that are constant reminders, and Phil’s going to find out. There’s no hiding this form Phil. 

Dan gnaws on his lip, suddenly worried, Will Phil be angry with him that this happened? Will he blame him? His heart nearly stops when he remembers what Phil told him right before he went out tonight - _“Behave tonight… You know how you get when you’ve had too much to drink… You turn into a sexual predator.”_

God, how he is going to explain this to Phil? Phil already knows how he gets when he’s drunk - but he wasn’t drunk tonight, he barely had anything to drink. But what if Phil doesn’t believe him? What if he thinks Dan wanted this to happen - Phil loves him, he’ll understand. No, Phil’s going to be disgusted with him; he’s dirty now, he’s gross and he’s dirty, and Phil’s going to hate him. Tears roll down Dan’s cheeks, and he shakes his head; he didn’t want this, he said no. Phil’s going to understand that… right?

* * *

He regrets his decision to walk to Phil’s flat after a while, because once he’s calmed down and the adrenaline’s worn off, he feels exhausted, emotionally and physically. And he’s angry, so angry. He’s angry that this happened but mostly he’s angry at himself for letting it happen, for not putting up more of a fight. And he’s disgusted with himself - he feels so disgusting. So gross, so dirty. His skin is crawling at the thought and aside from being with Phil, all he wants right now is a shower. Maybe then he’ll be clean again. 

He suddenly shudders; Phil isn’t going to want him anymore - he’s gross and he’s dirty and… he’s ruined everything. Phil was supposed to be his first time, they’ve talked about this. They were going to wait until Dan was ready and Phil was going to take care of him. And now he’s fucked up everything, he’s ruined everything. Phil’s going to hate him and he’s never going to want him ever again, and fuck he’s going to be sick again. He has to stop walking, he has to catch his breath, he has to calm himself down once more and he can’t help but to think that he’s not going to make it through the night at this rate. 

He comes to a halt, and covers his face with his hands. Why did this have to happen to him?

It takes him a few moments to compose himself, and then he realizes that he’s outside of Phil’s flat and he breathes a sigh of relief. He looks up to where his floor is, and contemplates ringing the buzzer so Phil can let him up when he remembers that it’s two in the morning and Phil’s more than likely asleep right now and he’d probably wake up the entire building if he rang the buzzer five times in a row to get Phil’s attention. Instead, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials Phil’s number. He answers on the fourth ring. “Hey, it’s me,” he tells him, managing to keep his voice steady and even. “Let me up”

“Dan?” Phil yawns in his ear, and Dan feels kind of bad for waking him up. “What’s going on? Is everything alright?” 

“Yeah, just - just let me up.”

“Dan-” there’s a pause for a second and then Phil says, “It’s two in the morning!”

Dan rolls his eyes. “I _know_ , just let me up. Please.” When Phil mumbles, “Okay.” Dan hangs up his phone and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down before he sees his boyfriend. It’s only a few seconds later when the front door opens and Dan rushes inside. Phil doesn’t say anything, probably because he’s too tired too, and Dan just walks past him upstairs and heads towards Phil’s floor. The door’s open and he walks inside; he wants to sit on the couch or head towards Phil’s room to crawl into bed with him, but he feels restless, so he walks around Phil’s living room as if this was the first time he’s ever seen it.

Behind him, Phil yawns and asks, “How was the club tonight?” and Dan visibly flinches, and his skin’s crawling again. “What’s wrong?” Phil reaches out for him, but when his hand makes contact with Dan’s arm, the younger boy tears away from him.

“Nothing!” Dan blurts out. 

Phil studies him for a moment; he’s never seen Dan this way - shaky, restless, nervous. On top of that, Dan’s never called him in the middle of the night - or from outside of his flat, demanding to be let in. Initially, he wants to assume that he’s just had a little too much to drink, but Phil knows Dan and he’s got a gut feeling that something’s wrong. “Did something happen tonight, Dan?” he asks gently, unsure of how far he should push the subject.

“No, it’s fine,” Dan stutters, and he’s pacing again. “I - I just need to take a shower.”

“A shower?” Phil repeats.

Dan swallows thickly, the nods. “Y - yeah. I don’t - yeah, I just want to take a shower.”

“You came all the way to my flat at two in the morning to take a shower?” Phil asks him slowly, hoping Dan will realize that he knows there’s a bigger problem here than Dan’s sudden obsession with hygiene. But Dan just tells him yes, and before Phil can even consider a response, he leaves the room. Phil hears the bathroom door down the hall shutting.

He rubs his eyes; he’s not tired anymore, no, now he’s wide awake. Dan’s not okay. He’s not dumb and Dan’s not that good of an actor when Shakespeare isn’t involved. So the question is, what’s wrong with him? Something had to have happened tonight, something that left Dan a bit of a nervous wreck, and Phil’s heart drops at the thought of something happening to his boyfriend and him not knowing what it was or what he can do for him.

* * *

Dan strips himself of his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and steps inside the shower immediately. The water is cold at first and he shivers, but it soon turns hot and he reaches for one of Phil’s bath sponges and lathers it up with soap. He wastes no time; he starts scrubbing. He’s desperate to feel clean again and he scrubs himself hard. He scrubs his arms and his stomach and his legs - and he lathers the sponge up with more soap and scrubs himself harder. The water at his feet mixes with soap residue and a little bit of blood that he’s trying to ignore because he doesn’t want to throw up in Phil’s shower. 

There’s blood caked on the inside of his thighs and he knows it. But he doesn’t look, he can’t look. Instead, he just scrubs his skin harder and harder. There are bruises on his wrists and around his waist and he scrubs at them as hard as he can, as if Phil’s body wash has some magical powers that’ll make them disappear forever. He scrubs himself until it almost starts to hurt but nothing compares to the pain from earlier tonight, and he ignores it. And he lathers the sponge up with more soap and he keeps scrubbing himself. He wants to be clean, he has to be clean, he has to _feel_ clean.

But he doesn’t. He loses track of how long he spends in the shower, but the bathroom’s full of steam and he uses almost an entire bottle of Phil’s soap. His skin is red and rubbed raw from him viciously trying to clean himself, but it didn’t work. He isn’t. He doesn’t _feel_ clean.

Feeling defeated, he drops down to the floor of the shower, and pulls his knees up to his chest, and he sobs. Anger and shame and disgust and fear bubble in the pit of his stomach and makes his chest tighten, and he can’t breathe and he can’t stop crying and _fuck_. His body trembles as he buries his face in his kneecaps, another harsh sob wracking at his chest. The cooling water beats against his body, but it doesn’t wash away the dirt that only he can see. He’s dirty, he’s disgusting. He’s not clean, he never will be again. 

* * *

Down the hall, Phil starts making a mug of tea because tea is scientifically proven to make someone feel better; that’s what his mum always told him growing up, at least. He’s making it just how Dan likes it - adding too much sugar, but just enough - when he hears the unmistakable sound of… crying? 

He knew something was wrong, and now Dan’s crying and Phil isn’t going to play dumb anymore. Abandoning the tea, Phil immediately walks down the hall towards the bathroom, stands outside of it for a moment and yes, Dan’s in there crying his little heart out. Phil knocks on the door. “Bear? Are you alright?” Dan doesn’t answer him, maybe because he couldn’t hear him, but the door isn’t locked so Phil lets himself inside. “Dan?” 

A rough sob escapes his lips as Dan chokes out, “Leave!” 

Phil’s jaw drops a little; Dan’s never yelled at him before - at least not like this. The two of them rarely fight, and when Dan’s worked up and yelling about something, it’s usually got nothing to do with Phil and his yelling is never directed towards Phil in the slightest. “Dan-”

“Just go away!” Dan all but screams at him, and he’s crying so hard - Phil’s never heard Dan cry this hard before, and Dan’s a bit of a sap; it doesn’t take much to make him cry in the first place. But crying because Rapunzel saw the lanterns and Flynn realized he’s in love with her is different than the crying he’s doing right now. It sounds like he’s in pain almost, and Phil’s scared because he doesn’t know why or what’s wrong, and Dan’s yelling at him to leave even though he feels like he shouldn’t. 

“Dan,” he tries again, because he needs to get to the bottom of this and Dan doesn’t sound like he should be left alone. “I just-”

“Get _away_ from me! Please, just go!”

Phil hesitates. He doesn’t want to leave Dan alone, not like this, but he can’t keep trying to get him to tell him what’s wrong if he doesn’t want him near him. But before he can convince himself that staying is a better idea, he just walks out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him and hoping that Dan’s alright. 

He hates this. He knows something is wrong, he knows something had to have happened to Dan tonight to get him so upset. But he doesn’t know what, and it’s killing him. He just wants to be there for his boyfriend.

Phil sneaks back in a few minutes later - hoping to go unnoticed by Dan, as he doesn’t want to upset him again - to leave Dan some dry and comfy clothes to wear, and as he’s leaving he picks up Dan’s discarded clothes from the floor - his jeans and white button-up shirt and a pair of underwear. And as Phil’s about to throw it all in his washing machine, he notices blood soaked into the fabric of Dan’s underwear.

His breath catches in his throat. Dan was hurt tonight? Did someone attack him, beat him up? Did he get mugged? If he wasn’t scared before, he’s terrified now because something happened and someone hurt Dan and he still doesn’t have any answers. He’s trying to piece it all together - Dan’s anxiousness, him crying in the shower, the blood on his clothes - but he keeps coming up blank and now all he can do is wait until Dan gets out of the shower to try and get some answers out of him. He needs answers. 

He waits restless, sipping at some tea which he ended up making for himself as well, and he alternates between pacing around his living room and sitting on the couch, trying to distract himself with his cell phone, and what feels like decades later, he hears the bathroom door opening and the pitter-patter of Dan’s feet as he walks down the hall. 

“Hi,” Dan looks utterly exhausted, and even though he’s wearing one of Phil’s hoodies which is a little too big on him and manages to cover his hands, he can see that his face and neck are red and blotchy, and his skin was scrubbed raw. But why? “I’m sorry for screaming at you.” he says softly, forcing Phil to pay attention and hesitantly, Dan takes a seat on the couch. Phil can’t help but to notice that he’s put a significant amount of space between them, as if he doesn’t want to get too close to him. Phil’s stomach drops. Did he do something wrong? 

“Don’t be sorry.” Phil tells him, and hands him his mug of tea. It’s still warm and Dan holds it in his hands, but doesn’t take a sip. “Dan, we need to talk.” he tells him. 

Dan’s lower lips trembles a little. “It’s nothing,” he says softly, looking down at his mug of tea.

“Dan, please,” Phil’s pleading with him at this point. “I know something happened tonight.”

“It’s _nothing_.” he repeats. 

“Bear, you know you can tell me anything,” Phil says to him, making sure to keep his voice soft and gentle, as he doesn’t want to scare him off again. Dan sniffles, but doesn’t say anything. “I know something happened tonight,” Phil repeats, and he attempts to move a little closer to him, but Dan flinches and he stills immediately. “What happened?” he asks. “And don’t say nothing.”

“Phil, I’m f-”

“I saw blood on your clothes, Dan,” Phil blurts out because he can’t keep beating around the bush anymore. Dan’s face pales when he hears this. “There was blood on your clothes, and you came to my flat clearly worked up about something.” he explains to him. “Please, just tell me what happened.”

“I can’t,” Dan says, and his voice breaks a little. His hands start to shake and his places his tea mug down on Phil’s coffee table, bringing his hands up to wipe at his eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything,” Phil reminds him, but Dan just shakes his head. “Really, you can. I won’t be mad or anything.”

“You’ll hate me.” Dan whimpers. “You’ll - you’ll think I’m disgusting, and you’ll hate me.”

“I promise I could never hate you, Dan.” Phil tells him patiently. “I love you.”

“You won’t when you find out.” Dan insists, and Phil’s heart is breaking at the seams. 

“No, no, Dan don’t think that,” he tells him. He pauses for a moment. “Did someone beat you up tonight? Is that why you were bleeding?” 

Dan sniffles and shakes his head. “Not - not exactly.” he stutters nervously. Phil waits patiently, and Dan takes a deep breath. “S - something happened, tonight.” he starts slowly. “At the club.” he pauses and swallows. “I - I lost my friends so I was by myself,” Phil bites his lip; he already knows nothing good is going to come of this story. “And I wanted to leave, s - so I went to the bathroom first and…” Dan pauses for a moment to collect himself again, wiping at the tears sliding down his cheeks. “There - there was this guy.” 

There’s a pause and Phil’s heart nearly stops. “A guy.” he repeats softly, and Dan nods, but he can’t make himself tell Phil what happened. “Something happened with a guy.” Phil says slowly.

“I told you you’d hate me,” Dan whimpers, covering his face with his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry, Phil.”

“Dan, just tell me what happened, okay?” Phil tells him, keeping his voice neutral and even, not wanting to come off as angry; Dan’s already fragile enough as it is and Phil can’t play victim to his imagination anymore. 

Dan sniffles again. “I - he grabbed me and -” his voice trails off, and suddenly, Phil doesn’t think what he thought happened tonight actually happened at all. “I tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me,” Dan rambles a little, his voice shaky. “And he - he -” there are tears sliding down his cheeks at top speed and covers his mouth with his hand as a sob escapes his lips. “It hurt, Phil.” he whimpered. “It hurt so much.”

Phil’s heart is pounding like mad. “Dan, what did he do?” he asks. “How did he hurt you?”

“I didn’t want him to,” Dan starts rambling again, as if Phil hadn’t spoken. “I - I was so _scared_ , and I didn’t want him to! I - I didn’t, I swear! But he was so strong, and I couldn’t - I tried to leave, I did! I tried - but he - and I couldn’t-” Dan can’t complete a coherent sentence at this point, he’s crying too hard, but defeatedly, he chokes out, “I told him to stop. I told him to stop and he _wouldn’t_!” 

“Dan,” Phil’s breathless. His boyfriend’s words are buzzing around in his mind - _”I told him to stop and he wouldn’t!”_ \- “Dan, were you…” Phil’s voice is barely above a whisper as he asks, “Did someone rape you?” Dan chokes out a loud sob, and Phil’s got his answer. 

Phil’s blood is boiling. Someone touched Dan, someone stole his innocence and someone hurt him. And Dan’s sitting before him, curled up into himself and crying so hard that it’s making Phil want to cry too. He’s shaking a little. He’s out for blood. He wants to embrace his inner Liam Neeson and find whoever did to Dan; he wants to look for him, he wants to find him, and he wants to kill him. 

He has to stay calm, though. He can’t freak out, he’s got to stay put together - for Dan’s sake. “Dan,” he starts slowly, then pauses to swallow and he takes a deep breath. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he shushes him a little, moving closer to him in an attempt to comfort him. 

“I’m sorry,” Dan chokes out through his tears. “I’m so - sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry,” Phil reaches out and gently brushes his hair back, but Dan flinches again, and he retracts his hand. “Dan, who did this to you?” he asks him.

“I don’t know!” Dan sobs, burying his face in his knees once more. Phil closes the gap between them, moving closer to him and comfortingly, placing his hands on either of Dan’s shoulders, letting him know that he’s here. “I don’t-” Dan hiccups a little, and says again, “I don’t know.”

“Don’t cry, bear, it’s okay,” Phil rubs his shoulders soothingly, and Dan hesitates a little before moving forward and letting Phil engulf him in a hug. Phil hugs him tightly, holding him with no intention of letting him go, and Dan buries his face in the crook of Phil’s neck, his tears soaking into the older boy’s shirt. Dan trembles under his touch, and Phil rubs his back lovingly, whispering sweet nothings in his ear in an attempt to calm him down. Every so often, Dan would choke out an “I’m sorry,” and Phil would remind him that he wasn’t angry with him, and whisper to him again that it was okay, that everything would be okay.

They couldn’t stay like this forever though. Phil’s mind starts reeling; Dan was raped. He could be sick or hurt right now, and neither of them would know. They need to go to A&E. He never thought he would have to say this, but Dan needed to get a rape kit done.

“Bear,” he gently broke their hug and thumbed away Dan’s tears. “I know you’re scared right now, but it’s going to be alright, yeah? I’m going to take care of you. You trust me, right?” Dan sniffles and nods, and Phil says, “Okay, we’ve got to go to A&E now.”

“No!” Dan instantly protests, a fresh wave of tears rolling down his red cheeks.

“We’ve got to make sure that you’re alright, Dan,” Phil tells him calmly, already expecting Dan to have protested in the first place. “I don’t want you to be sick or anything.”

Dan sniffles again. “I - I don’t want anyone to know,” he whimpers. “Everyone’s going to think that I’m a slut or something.”

“No one’s going to think that, bear,” Phil replies immediately. “I promise you, okay? I’m here, I’m going to take care of you.” it takes a little more coaxing, but soon enough, Phil’s calling a cab and the two of them are on their way to A&E.

* * *

“I wanna go home.” Dan mumbles against Phil’s collarbone, arms wrapped around the older boy’s middle as he clings to him tightly. He shivers and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s scared, or because he’s in a paper hospital gown and this hospital room is freezing. 

Phil rubs soothing circles in his back, his arms wrapped firmly around him. He feels so small. “It’ll be okay, bear.” he tells him. He feels awful; he knows Dan must be scared out of his mind right now.

“What if I’m sick?” Dan whimpers, and Phil shudders at the thought of it. It’s bad enough he had to bring his boyfriend to A&E in the first place, the thought of him actually being sick honestly nauseates Phil. “What if he gave me something?” 

“I’m sure you’re fine,” Phil tells him, and he hates that he’s lying to Dan but the truth is, something could be wrong with Dan. “You just need to get checked out to be sure, yeah?” he adds, because he knows he’d rather find out sooner rather than later if - God forbid - Dan had something from that vile excuse for a human being that touched him.

Dan sniffles again. “I’m scared,” he says in a small voice and Phil hugs him even tighter because he’s scared too. 

The two of them wait in silence. A nurse came in and already gave Dan a brief physical and gotten his medical history, and now they were waiting for Dan’s doctor to come in and actually do the rape kit - which neither Dan nor Phil were particularly looking forward to. 

Their wait isn’t long, however, because Dan’s doctor arrives rather quickly, introducing himself as Dr. Spencer, and Dan clings to Phil even tighter, burying his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. “Dan’s kind of… shaken up,” Phil explains, keeping his arms tightly around Dan as well.

“Understandable.” Dr. Spencer nods, then pulls up a chair so he can sit across from the two of them. “You both can trust me, however. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that Dan is taken care of correctly.”

“Um,” Phil hesitates for a second then says, “Before we came here, well before I found out about what happened to him, he took a shower. Is that - I mean, I know he shouldn’t have, but I didn’t know and-”

“I will say,” Dr, Spencer interrupts gently. “That the test results would’ve been clearer if Dan hadn’t showered, but we’ll test anyway and hope for the best. However, even if the results are negative, we’ll have to retest in a few months.”

Dan grunts. “Is that really necessary?” he asks quietly. 

“We just want to be sure that you’re clear of any and all infections, Dan.” Dr. Spencer explains. 

Dan exhales slowly, closing his eyes. “I just can’t believe this is happening,” he says softly. 

“You know,” Dr. Spencer says gently. “You can press charges against who did this to you. They need to suffer as well, Dan.”

Dan sniffles again and shakes his head. “I - I don’t even know who he was.” he says quietly. 

* * *

Retelling the story of what happened wasn’t easy, Dan can barely choke out the details and Phil has to resist the urge to excuse himself from the room because he can’t stomach the thought of someone hurting Dan. He hates that this had to have happened to him.

And what’s worse, is that it was Dan’s first time. 

Phil always told Dan he would be his first time. He loved him, he would’ve taken care of him, he would’ve made sure he was comfortable and at ease the entire time. And as much as Phil can tell Dan that this doesn’t count as his first time, he knows that the memory is going to be with Dan forever. He’s always going to associate this night with his first sexual experience, and Phil almost throws up at the thought of it.

Dan doesn’t deserve that. No one does. 

Dr. Spencer tells Dan he’s in control of everything right now; before continuing with any step in the rape kit, he asks Dan if he’s okay with it and he doesn’t do anything that Dan doesn’t agree to. Dan’s still tense the entire time and doesn’t say much, other than giving his doctor affirmation when he needs it and answering his questions when need be. The process goes by as quickly as the doctor can make it, and he makes sure Dan is as comfortable as possible the entire time. And Phil stays by his side the entire time, holding his hand and reassuring him that everything will be alright. 

Dan’s more than relieved when it’s over; the overall process of getting a rape kit done is not just uncomfortable, it’s embarrassing. He’s sure that his doctor, the staff - even Phil - are positive that he’s nothing but a stupid slut. Emphasis on stupid. 

As soon as he gets the okay, he gets dressed into Phil’s hoodie and a pair of his own sweatpants, which makes him feel slightly less disgusting and slightly more comfortable than he’s been throughout this entire appointment. His doctor tells him that his test results will be in soon, but Dan doesn’t want to think about it. He just wants to go home. He thanks his doctor, however, especially for that fact that he saw him so late at night (or early in the morning, however you look at it), and he wastes no time getting ready to leave. He really wants to go home. 

Dr. Spencer pulls Phil aside while Dan get re-dressed and told him, “We’ll have his results in a few days, but until then, I’d like you to keep a close eye on him.”

Phil nods. “Of course.”

“I’m sure I don’t have to reiterate that what Dan went through was really traumatic,” Dr. Spencer continued. “But just keep in mind that he’s going to be really on edge for the next couple of days, weeks maybe. He’s going to be anxious, maybe even a little afraid of being in close contact with anyone. Just be patient with him until he’s back to his old self, okay?”

Phil looks over at Dan, his hands are shaking as he pulls his shirt on and his heart aches thinking about how terrified Dan must be right now. “Of course.” he says again.

* * *

It’s just about five in the morning when Dan and Phil are back at Phil’s flat after having left A&E and both boys are exhausted. Phil’s got his fingers laced with Dan’s and he walks the younger boy to his bedroom, the two of them already agreed upon the fact that Dan should stay at Phil’s for the rest of the weekend. Phil wishes he could just stay with him forever, that way he would be able to ensure that nothing bad would ever happen to Dan again, but the remainder of the weekend would have to do for now. 

The two enter Phil’s bedroom, and Phil takes it upon to tuck Dan in, making sure he’s nice and comfortable - even though Dan tiredly protests that he doesn’t need to, he’s extremely appreciative of Phil taking care of him. Phil leans down to gently kiss his forehead and whispers to him, “Goodnight.”

For a second, Dan thinks Phil is going to leave and his pulse begins to race. “W - wait!” he sits up immediately, even though Phil hasn’t moved from his side yet. “Are you - you’re staying with me right?” he asks nervously. 

“Did you want me to?” Phil asks him. “I wasn’t sure if you would’ve wanted space or anything-”

“No!” Dan interrupts quickly. “No, don’t - don’t leave me, please.”

“Oh, Dan,” Phil forces a little smile, but it’s so broken and sad that Dan can see right through it, and he tells him, “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I promise.” 

Dan exhales. “Okay.” he says softly, feeling a bit ridiculous now for freaking out, and he lies back down. Phil climbs into bed next to him and hesitantly leans in to place a kiss on his cheek. Dan bites his lip; how can Phil even want to kiss him anymore? He’s… used now. He’s been tainted and he’s dirty and he’s not clean anymore. And his heart starts to hurt because it’s only a matter of time before Phil realizes it. Who would want to be with someone as disgusting as he is?

Dan sniffles and God, how does he even have the energy to cry anymore? He buries his face into Phil’s pillows, hoping to go unnoticed at the moment, but he feels Phil’s hand on the small of his back and that’s when the tears start to fall. “Dan? What’s wrong bear?” 

Dan sighs, rolling over not facing Phil but lying on his back and blurts out, “I’m sorry.”

Confused, Phil asks, “What are you sorry for?”

Dan sniffles again and wipes at his eyes. “I - you were supposed to be my first,” he whimpers quietly. “It was always supposed to be you, and - and I just fucked it all up. And now I’m all gross and used, and…” he pauses to wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie and he chokes out, “I’m really sorry, Phil. Everything’s just all fucked up and it’s all my fault, and I’m sorry.” 

“Dan,” Phil leans over and takes his hands again and kisses his knuckles, and Dan cries some more because Phil loves him so much and he doesn’t deserve it. He’s trash, he’s disgusting. He doesn’t deserve Phil loving him so much. “Dan, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for okay?” he tells him. “And none of this is your fault, please believe me. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

Dan stubbornly shakes his head. “It _is_ my fault,” he insists. “I should’ve left when I first lost my friends, I should’ve put up more of a fight - hell, I shouldn’t have went out in the first place. I should’ve just came over to your place like always, and this would’ve happened. This is my fault.”

“Dan, stop it.” Phil says firmly, and he gently pulls Dan up so he’s sitting up like he is and he looks him square in the eye and says, “This is not your fault, okay? I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t blame yourself either, alright? And I love you. You aren’t gross or used; you’re my Dan and I love you.” tears roll down Dan’s cheeks and he nods and Phil wants so badly to just throw his arms around him and hold him tightly, but he just gives his hand a squeeze and kisses his knuckles again and whispers, “I love you, bear.”

“I love you too,” Dan replies, wiping his eyes. He lies down again and doesn’t let go of Phil’s hand.

* * *

Phil can’t sleep. It’s almost six in the morning and ideally, he should be fast asleep, especially after the night he’s had, but he’s wide awake and has been for the past forty-five minutes. Next time, Dan is tucked in and sleeping soundly, his hair curling at the ends and Phil reaches out to fondly brush them across his forehead. Dan stirs slightly, but his slumber isn’t disturbed. Phil smiles. Dan really needed some sleep after everything.

He needs sleep too. He’s been up since two in the morning, frantic and running around Manchester with Dan, and before then he only got over an hour of sleep. He really should be asleep by now.

But he can’t fall asleep. His mind is racing and he can’t get it to shut up for all of five minutes so he can doze off. He can’t stop thinking about Dan and if he’s okay - not just physically, but mentally. He’s never known anyone who was raped before, and it scares him that he has no idea what could be going on in Dan’s mind now. 

Rolling over, he reaches under his bed for his laptop and sits up before powering it on. If he isn’t going to sleep, he might as well do something other than lie in bed, staring at the ceiling - or at Dan, which vaguely reminds him of _Twilight_ and generally freaks him out a bit. So he turns his laptop on, turns the brightness down a bit so he doesn’t wake Dan up, and he goes straight to google,typing in: ‘the effects of sexual assault’ He honestly doesn’t really know what he expects to find, but he needs some sort of insight as opposed to going by what Dan’s doctor told him. He needs to know how to help Dan get through this.   
He goes on the first website that comes up in the search and is immediately overwhelmed by everything that comes up; post traumatic stress disorder, substance abuse, sleep disorders, self-harm/self-injury, eating disorders… and so much more. He feels a pain in his chest and he figures it’s his heart actually aching. He can’t believe this happened to Dan; why did this have to happen to Dan?

He clicks on the first link - post traumatic stress disorder. He reads, ‘After a traumatic event, it is typical to have feelings of anxiety, stress, or fear, making it difficult to adjust or cope for some time afterwards. In particular, survivors of sexual violence may experience severe feelings of anxiety, stress, or fear, known as Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). While it is natural to have some of these symptoms after a traumatic event, if they last more than a few weeks and become an ongoing problem, it might be PTSD. If left untreated, the symptoms of PTSD can grow worse and last for months or even years.’

Phil brings his hands up and presses his palms to his eyes, sighing softly. He doesn’t want to think about Dan having PTSD. He doesn’t want to think about Dan being scared or anxiety-ridden because of this. He doesn’t want to think about Dan having to carry this nightmare with him for months or even years. 

Phil looks over at Dan sleeping by his side, and he wishes this hadn’t happened to him. Dan didn’t deserve this. He looks back at his laptop, reading again about post-traumatic stress disorder, reading again about everything Dan could be going through because this happened, and he can’t help but to blame himself now.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he does. If he would’ve been able to convince Dan to come over to his place instead of going out, then none of this would’ve happened. Or maybe if he would’ve went out with him too, then none of this would’ve happened. He should’ve tried harder, he should’ve protected Dan. And it goes without saying that Dan doesn’t think he needs Phil to protect him, but they both know that he does. Phil’s older, he has more life experience, and Dan is just so innocent and small and Phil should’ve protected him tonight. 

He just can’t believe he couldn’t protect him.

Phil hears a soft whimper, and immediately turns to look towards Dan. The younger boy rolls over onto his side, face scrunched up and short gasps escaping his lips. He whimpers again, rolling over once again, and Phil can vaguely hear a faint, “No,” escape his lips.

“Dan,” Phil says, but Dan doesn’t wake up; instead he lets out a small whine and rolls over once more, lying on his side again. Phil watches him a moment and sees that he’s still, so he pulls his blanket up over his shoulders and turns back to his laptop to do some more reading. 

It’s only a few minutes of absolute silence, spare for Phil’s keyboard clicking beneath his fingers, when Dan whimpers again, louder this time. And it takes Phil only a second to realize that he’s having a nightmare. 

“Dan,” he shakes him this time, gently. “Dan, wake up.” he shakes him harder because Dan doesn’t wake up initially, and he can see tears rolling down Dan’s cheeks in his sleep and it’s breaking his heart. “Dan, c’mon love, wake up.”

Dan awakes with a start, a scream escaping his lips and Phil jumps slightly, taken aback. Dan’s screams are soon replaced by heavy breathing, and he looks around Phil’s room, as if unsure where he is, and Phil is immediately at his side, hands on his shoulders and telling him, “It’s okay love, it’s alright.”

“No, no, don’t!” Dan shouts at him the second Phil’s hands are on him, seemingly trying to twist away from his grasp.

“Dan, Dan it’s fine, it’s okay,” Phil tells him hurriedly, moving his hand up to cup Dan’s cheek, but Dan backs up against the headboard, and cries, “Stop it, stop it! Don’t touch me!” and brings his knees up to his chest, as if making sure that Phil won’t get too close to him.

Phil immediately lets go, putting his hands up so Dan can see them clearly and will trust that he won’t try and hurt him. His heart is pounding; he remembers what the doctor told him, that Dan might be anxious or afraid for a while and he just has to be patient with him. But even though he knows that Dan’s not afraid of _him_ and just afraid in general is a hard concept to wrap his mind around, especially when his boyfriend screams at him not to touch him. 

But still, Phil backs up and gives him some space and tells him again, “It’s okay, Dan. I won’t hurt you.” Dan stares at him with wide, tear-filled eyes, and Phil’s never seen him look so afraid before. “You’re safe here, bear, it’s alright.” he continues, hoping that he’s calming Dan down and making him realize that he doesn’t need to be scared. He watches as Dan blinks and looks around his room again, his chest heaving but he’s seeming to calm down - even if it is just slightly - and Phil considers that to be progress. “You’re alright, bear,” he tells him again. “It’s alright. You’re safe now.”

“Ph - Phil?” Dan whimpers, and blinks a few times, trying to starve off the inevitable flood of tears that are sure to come.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Phil tells him. “I’m here.” 

Dan sniffles and presses his palms to his eyes. “God - I’m sorry, Phil.” he says. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Phil reassures him. Dan’s silent for a moment, and he lowers his hands. The two of them sit in silences for a moment, and Phil can see that Dan’s bottom lip is trembling. “Dan, really, it’s okay.” he tells him. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

Dan just nods, not saying anything again, then timidly asks Phil, “C - can I have a hug, please?” he wrings his hands together anxiously in his lap, partially looking as if he’s expecting Phil to say no, partially looking as if he’s afraid of his own request. 

Phil smiles sadly. “Of course you can, c’mere.” and Dan immediately crawls into his lap, letting Phil hold him tightly. Phil presses his lips to the side of Dan’s head and whispers to him one more time, “It’s okay,” and he feels Dan nod. He isn’t sure if Dan believes him or not, but he believes it. Dan will be okay. He’ll make sure of it.

* * * 

The weekend goes by faster than either of them wishes it would, and now it’s Monday morning and Dan has to go back to school - a decision he’s been dreading since he’s woken up this morning. And as slowly as he moved, and as much as he tried to put it off, he and Phil both knew that Dan had to leave.

Phil could feel a knot in the pit of his stomach as he helped Dan get his things together, and it only tightened when he called a cab to take them to Dan’s school. He didn’t want Dan to leave; he was full of constant paranoia that something was going to happen to him while they were separated, and once again, he wouldn’t be able to save him. He’s terrified at the thought of Dan being by himself, which is ridiculous because he’s not Dan’s parent and Dan’s nineteen, not nine. But they both know that Phil’s older than Dan is and he has more life experience that he does and that Dan barely looks a day over sixteen who’s just been thrust into the “real world” without a clue. And besides, everyone needs to be protected sometimes. 

The majority of the day goes by in a blur, and it’s almost as if neither Dan or Phil realize that they’ve arrived to Dan’s school - in fact, the cab driver actually has to remind them that the meter’s running and that they probably don’t want to pay for just sitting there.

Phil pays the driver, then the two of them head to Dan’s dorm, ignoring all of Dan’s friends attempts at conversation. Every time one of them mentions Friday, Dan flinches and Phil feels a surge of anger course through him. They were all there, and they left Dan alone. They let him happen to him. None of them did anything. 

Phil exhales slowly, calming himself down because the last thing he and Dan need right now is for him to accidentally snap at the wrong person, and instead, he shoots for normalcy, asking about what Dan wants to do this weekend while helping him get settled in. Dan doesn't say much, but Phil’s talking enough for the both of them; he’s wound up tight with nervous energy, and he can’t stop chatting away and wandering around Dan’s room, cleaning things here and there, or making sure his things are ready for his upcoming class. Only when Dan sits down on his bed, knees pulled up to his chest and back pressed against the wall, that Phil shuts up. 

Dan’s dorm bed is tiny, but Phil manages to squeeze in next to his boyfriend, and Dan rests his hand on Phil’s shoulder and Phil kisses his forehead, and they just sit in silence for a moment. 

Dan’s scared. Phil knows that. He can read his boyfriend like a book, and he knows that he’s shit scared right now, that he doesn’t want to be here, that he’s anxious and on edge for so many different reasons. And Phil knows that Dan wants him to fix it.

“You know,” Phil says softly, musing Dan’s hair, lightly tangling his fingers in his curly brown locks, secretly admiring the fact that Dan couldn’t be bothered to straighten his hair today. “It’s only, like, four days until Friday. That means you’ll be back at my place.”

Dan manages a ghost of a smile and mutters, “Yeah.”

Phil sighs softly and kisses Dan’s head. “I love you,” he tells him, and Dan says it back, and Phil gives him a small squeeze, almost as if he’s saying, “I’m sorry.”

They lie together like this for as long as they can, until Dan actually has to go to class or he’s going to be late, and when that happens, Phil walks him to his class, giving him a big hug and reminding him that he can call him the second he needs to and he’ll run to his side, and Dan thanks him. However, albeit reluctantly Phil has to leave and Dan’s alone. 

Dan’s chest feels tight, and he knows this is only the beginning. He’s had his fair share of anxiety attacks before, and ever since what happened on Friday, he feels like he’s been living in constant anxiety. He’s so afraid all of the time, and he’s so fucking tired of being so afraid, but he can’t help it. He doesn’t know who did this to him; it could literally be anyone, anyone he passes on the street, anyone he sees in the shops, anyone at his school.

Dan’s heart nearly stops at that thought, and ‘Oh god,’ he thinks, ‘I can’t breathe, I’m going to be sick, I’m going to die.’ Without a second thought, he shoots up from his desk, ignoring everyone watching him as he rushes out of class. He has to get out of there, he can’t - he can’t be in there, he can’t breathe in there, he can’t breathe. 

He leans against the wall, hands pulling at his hair, teeth grit together tensely as he exhales heavily through his nose, but it’s not enough air and he’s going to pass out, he can’t breathe, _he can’t fucking breathe_. Just like that night; he couldn’t breathe that night when that man locked him in the bathroom, when he dragged him into the stall, when he pushed him up against the wall and he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe then and he can’t breathe now and _fuck!_

A sob escapes Dan’s lips, and he hadn’t even realized he had begun crying. He sinks down to the floor, pushing his head between his knees and he just tries to breathe. God he just wants to fucking _breathe_. His chest hurts so badly and he’s crying, god of course he’s crying, as if it wasn’t bad enough that this was happening in public nevertheless; he has to fucking sob like a baby as well. He closes his eyes and tries to block it out, to forget, to calm himself down, to stop crying, to breathe. But he can’t breathe, he can’t he can’t he can’t.

He loses track of time, and he sees footsteps on the ground, people leaving their classes, going on with their lives. No one pays any mind to him, and he’s never been so thankful to be ignored. 

He leans his head back against the wall behind him and takes a deep breath. It doesn’t get caught in his throat or his chest and he finally breathes easily. He brings his hands up to wipe at his tear stained cheeks, and he gets up to his feet almost immediately, feeling suddenly so self conscious, and he heads back to his dorm. He wants to forget that this happened, he wants to forget that everything happened. But he can’t. And the next day, he remembers, and he suddenly can’t breathe again.

* * *

It’s finally Friday, and Dan heads back to Phil’s flat for another weekend. He hasn’t told him about his almost constant panic attacks over the course of the past week, and he almost feels guilty walking up to Phil’s floor, like he’s keeping such a huge secret from his boyfriend. It’s the same kind of guilt he felt the night he was outside of Phil’s apartment after it had happened, ringing him to tell him to let him in -

No. He can’t think about it again. He can’t, he won’t. He doesn’t get to see Phil that much anyway, and things have already been pretty shit lately. Phil doesn’t need anymore of Dan’s baggage.

So he forces whatever he thinks looks like a smile and he knocks on Phil’s door and tonight’s going to be a good night. He’s not going to mess it up. 

The second Phil opens his door, his first instinct is to greet Dan with a hug, to pull him in as close as possible and give him a big kiss, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Things are different now.

Instead, he smiles and offers his hand to his boyfriend, and leads him inside. His smile wavers a bit when he actually gets a good look at Dan; the poor boy looks terrible. The bags under his eyes are so deep, he looks like he hasn’t slept a wink this past week. Not to mention his hair has been tousled messily atop of his head, showing no signs of Dan even attempting to tame his hobbit hair, and he walks with his shoulders slumped heavily, as if he’s carrying the weight of all of his worries on his back. And maybe he is. And Phil instantly starts to worry about him. “So, how was your week?” he asks casually.

“Fine.” Dan says simply with a shrug, and he stifles a yawn, trying to play it off and failing completely.

“You know,” Phil tells him. “I have some last minute editing to finish up; if you wanted to, you could take a little cat nap while I work. Before we start watching movies, that is.” a little while lie, but it’s fine, because Dan literally looks like he could fall asleep standing up.

Dan smiles sheepishly, almost looking a little guilty at being caught being so tired, and says, “Okay,” in a quiet voice. He allows Phil to give him a peck on the cheek before he heads over towards the couch in Phil’s living room. It’s barely five minutes before Dan is fast asleep. 

Phil quietly walks over to him, taking a seat on the floor next to his sleeping boyfriend, and he gingerly reaches out to brush his hair across his forehead. Dan isn’t okay. He can lie to himself and he can lie to Dan until he hasn’t a bit of breath left, but the fact of the matter is that Dan isn’t okay. 

Phil’s seen this side of Dan before; it’s only a matter of time before the black cloud known as depression finds its way over Dan’s head and he’s gone back to the broken little boy he was when Phil first met him. He doesn’t want that to happen again; Dan doesn’t deserve that to happen again. 

He wants to fix this, but there isn’t a clear cut answer as to what Phil can do other than “be there for him” - god, he’s so sick and tired of being told to just “be there for Dan”, obviously he’s going to be there for Dan. But just being by his side and holding his hand and whispering to him that it’ll be okay isn’t going to take these memories away, it isn’t going to make Dan less afraid to walk the streets of Manchester, it isn’t going to bring back the Dan he was before he had his innocence stolen. There has to be something that Phil can do, but he’s completely out of options. 

So he does what he’s been doing best. He sits by Dan’s side, and holds his hand, and whispers to him that it’ll be okay.

* * *

It’s been days since it happened, almost a whole month, but Dan’s still as fucked up as ever. He can’t go five minutes without thinking about _it_ , no matter how hard he tries not to. He can’t seem to push it out of his mind, he can’t forget it no matter how badly he wishes he could. When he closes his eyes, he can’t see his attacker’s face. He can feel his hands, he can hear his voice - but his face is just a blur. He’s without a face, without a name, and it’s literally driving Dan insane. It could be anyone.   
He walks down the hall, headed towards his classroom, and looks around at the people he passes. Panic spikes and he breaks out in a cold sweat. It could be anyone - it could’ve be someone he sees on a daily basis, someone he has class with, someone he’s spoken with before. 

And that’s what scares him the most: his attacker literally could be anyone, and he has no idea who “anyone” could be.

He exhales slowly; his chest feels tight, and his heart starts to pound. What if he’s not safe? What if the person who attacked him can see him walking around, what if he’s being watched? With widened eyes, he looks around frantically. Anyone - it could’ve been anyone. People push past him, causing him to realize he’s just standing in the middle of the hall, and he takes a deep breath. He has to calm down. 

But he can’t calm down. His chest is tight. He can’t breathe. Fuck, he can’t breathe. He leans against a nearby wall, pressing his forehead against it. It feels cool against his heated skin and he closes his eyes, trying to block out everything else and shut his mind down. He needs to stop thinking.

_He doesn’t stop._.

He shudders, the memories coming back full force, making him sick. ‘It’s fine, you’re fine,’ he lies to himself because he has to calm down. His heart is pounding hard and loud in his ears, but not loud enough to drown out the voice he wishes he could forget, whispering gross things in his ears. Not loud enough to make him drown out the memory of him touching him, hurting him, pressing his lips against his own… 

_He doesn’t stop._

_He doesn’t stop._.

He hyperventilates a little, and before he can consider stopping it, he’s having a full blown panic attack. He turns around, he has to leave, he has to get back to his dorm. It’s safe there, he’ll be safe there. 

_He finally stops._.

He starts running, and now it’s not sure if he’s gasping for breath because he’s having a panic attack or because he’s tragically out of shape, but he doesn’t stop running. He feels like he’s running from his memories, but they’re always right on his back, never wanting him to forget what happened. 

He busts into his dorm room and locks the door behind him, realizing his hands are shaking. He’s crying now too and he can’t breathe. His hands tug at his hair; ‘Breathe,’ he tells himself. ‘You need to breathe,’ and he repeats the mantra to himself over and over again, until he realizes that he’s speaking aloud and he presses a hand over his mouth. He tries to remember what he read online about panic attacks; breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. He tries to do that, but it doesn’t work. He still feels like he can’t breath, still feels himself gasping for air. ‘I’m going to die,’ he thinks because he can’t breathe and he can’t stop shaking and he’s going to be sick. ‘I’m going to die, I can’t breathe and I’m going to die.’

His hands are shaking so much he nearly drops his phone and it takes him a few tries to actually dial Phil’s number, and when he does, he’s breathing heavily and tears are rolling down his cheeks. Phil answers almost immediately, and all he can choke out is Phil’s name in a broken sob. 

“Dan?” he struggles to hear Phil’s voice over his heavy breathing. “Dan, are you alright?” 

“I-” it takes him a moment to regain his voice and he chokes out, “I can’t - Phil, it hurts,” and then begs him, “Make it stop hurting.”

“It’s okay, bear, I will, I’m on my way, okay?” he listens to Phil’s voice and tries to let it soothe him, but he doesn’t feel any more relaxed. “Talk to me, okay? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m - scared,” he gasps. He can barely form a complete sentence, and Phil talks to him, telling him that he’s on his way and that everything will be okay. He listens to Phil talk to him, and he paces around his room, waiting for him to come and save him from himself.

It doesn’t take long - or maybe it does and he just hasn’t realized it - before Phil’s banging on his door, telling him to let him in. Dan hangs up his phone and unlocks his door, letting Phil inside. “What is it, bear? Are you okay?” Phil asks him, frantic.

Dan shakes his head, tears still rolling down his cheeks. “Help,” he sobs, fanning himself with his hands. He feels hot, he’s sure he’s sweating now. He still can’t breathe. “Help - it hurts Phil,” he whimpers. 

“Shh, shh, it’s alright,” Phil reaches out and takes his hands in his own, lacing their fingers together and tells Dan, “Look at me, yeah?” Dan locks eyes with him, and Phil can see true terror in those brown irises. “It’s okay, Dan,” he tells him. “Just breathe, okay. Just breathe - like me, okay.”

“Can’t,” Dan gasps. “I can’t, I can’t,”

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay, bear.” Phil soothes him. “I promise, you’re okay,” he guides one of Dan’s hands to his chest, letting him feel his heartbeat which he assumes is relatively normal and calm compared to Dan’s at the moment, and tells him, “Just breathe like me, okay? You’re okay, bear, it’s okay.” he tells him this over and over until Dan starts to breathe normally again, and then he tells him, “You’re safe here, okay? I’m here and I won’t hurt you; you’re safe, bear.”

Dan’s shaking but he’s calmed down now; he can feel his heart rate returning to normal and the tension in his chest begins to melt away. He feels… okay. Sniffling a little, he throws himself forward at Phil and clings to him tightly. Phil wraps his arms tightly around him and holds him; he feels Phil kissing his head and whispering to him “I love you,” over and over again, and Dan squeezes him a little tighter. He’s safe with Phil, he tells himself. He’s safe with Phil.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Dan whispers exhaustedly to Phil, lying with his head on his chest and Phil’s arms wrapped tightly around him. His hair is matted down to his forehead, which is wet with sweat, and Phil’s got one of his hands tangled together with his own, his thumb running over his knuckles lightly. 

“What are you sorry for?” Phil asks him.

“I’m… I’m so fucked up, Phil,” Dan sighs. “I’m a mess and I’m not getting any better.”

“Maybe you should try therapy?” Phil suggests. “Or see a doctor for all these panic attacks?” 

Dan bites his lips. “I don’t - I’d rather not.” he says softly. He can’t explain it, but the idea of talking to a stranger or taking two little white pills a day for something he can’t control isn’t something he wants to do with his life. He doesn’t want it to have to get to that point. “Am - I’m too much Phil?” he blurts out uncertainly. “Like, too much for you to handle?”

“Dan, how could you think that?” Phil asks him. “Look at me, yeah?” Dan turns his head so he’s looking at Phil, who tells him, “I love you, and you are never going to be too much for me, okay? I’m going to be here for you, right by your side no matter what. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re going to get so sick of me soon enough.” Dan manages a small smile at that, and Phil smiles a little too. He’s missed seeing his smile. “I’m just worried,” he continues slowly. “That… that I’m not enough to help you.”

“Phil,” Dan starts. “You’re the only thing that makes me feel like I can be okay again.” he rests his head on Phil’s chest again and says, “I just want to be okay again.” 

“You will be,” Phil tells him, holding him close. “I promise. You will be.” 

Dan hopes that one day he’ll believe him. 

* * *

He doesn’t end up going to counselling or getting anxiety medicine, something Phil wishes he would change his mind about, but he doesn’t push him to do so. Instead, he just does what he’s been told to do from the start: he’s there for Dan. He coaxes him to get out of bed on the bad days, smiles with him on the good days, holds him during the bad nights and good nights. It takes time, but he starts to realize that he is, in fact, enough. 

Dan drops out of uni a few weeks later. He tells his parents it’s because he’s unhappy - which his is, just not with his area of study. Phil talks him into moving in with him, which he’s slightly wary about at first, not because he’s against the idea of living with his boyfriend, but because he’s worried that Phil’s taking pity on him. Because even though it’s been a long time since it happened, it still happened, and Dan’s like a wounded puppy. He still flinches when Phil tries to hug him unexpectedly, he still has nightmares and panic attacks, he still looks behind each and every corner before entering a room.

He takes his YouTube channel a little seriously after this. Phil convinces him to, said it would serve as a distraction or as an outlet. He isn’t sure at first, but he decides, why not? After all, he isn’t in school and has a lot of time to kill during the day. He doesn’t tell anyone what happened, but he talks about dropping out of college and the struggles of being left handed and how he sold an axe to a ten year old, and he finds himself smiling and laughing a lot more. He feels… okay. 

He talks to Phil about it. Not a lot, but sometimes. When he’s having a bad day or after a nightmare that has him awaking with screams escaping his lips, when it’s on his mind and he can’t seem to think of anything else, when he just needs to talk. Phil’s always there, he’s always going to be there and Phil holds his hand and rubs his back and listens to him and sometimes he gives him advice, but mostly he just lets Dan talk. Sometimes he cries and asks Phil, “Why me? Why did it have to be me?” and Phil holds him until he cries himself dry. Sometimes he tells Phil he’s angry, because this guy - whoever he is - ruined his life and he wants it back, he wants his life back, and he screams and paces and pulls at his hair.

Recently, he’s been telling Phil that he doesn’t want to be a victim anymore, he doesn’t want to feel like a victim. He tells Phil he wants to be brave and strong. Because, yeah, this happened to him and it’s terrible but he’s starting to realize that if he wants his life back, he’s going to have to take it back. Phil keeps telling him how proud he is of him, how brave and strong he is even if he doesn’t realize it. It’s been months, and Phil still reminds him that he’s going to be okay.

Dan’s starting to believe him.

It’s been months. The panic attacks have stopped, and the nightmares are limited. He doesn’t flinch when Phil hugs him from behind. He’s still afraid, but not as afraid. He doesn’t want to let himself live his life afraid of his own shadow. He can’t live his life that way. He wants to be happy. He’s going to be happy. 

He’s going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> i just realized that i forgot to include this in the fic (ffs courtney) bUT in case u were wondering, dan’s test results came back clean :) he doesn’t have an STI/D and he’s not like pregnant or anything. yay finally one good thing happens to dan hahaha hehe heh im sorry dan ._.
> 
> i’ll be going now thanks for reading <3


End file.
